Harmoniously Coexisting
by Kisses on the Steps
Summary: Wan is an orphan who works for the posh Shoe family. When he steals from them, his punishment will set him on a course that will help the oppressed in the discriminatory South, and put him in the path of Raava. 1960s AU
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first Korra fanfic, but I have been developing this story for a long time now. I hope it holds your interest because it is a Civil Rights AU taking a lot of the points from Beginnings, Part 1 and Part 2. I have modernized some names, and I hope they don't confuse, so please review and tell me if I should continue or what to change. A lot more stuff will happen in upcoming chapters, after the "telling" part is over. There is A LOT of symbolism in this, such as the spirits being the oppressed African Americans, so I hope I made it understandable. I just don't want to make it too complicated. I think I will post this every Friday, so expect another at the end of this week. Review (PLEASE) because it helps sososososo much.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Korra, because I'm a poor fangirl.**

Darkness enveloped all moving silhouettes against the slums of Cirby. It was as if the cloud that covered the moon gave its permission for the plotters to continue their work of segregation and discrimination. Some of the boys carried bricks with nasty messages written on them, others held cartons of eggs previously let out to rot all day in the Alabama summer sun, and the rest juggled multiple cans of spray paint. They covered all the targeted houses, stores and schools, and whenever they met resistance, the dark figures would fall on them with hard fists, whether it was men or women. Screams of terrified innocents soon pierced the stifling night air, freezing the blood in Wan's body.

He still clutched his brick which "The Captain" had printed in black marker, "LEAVE TOWN". The house he was to terrorize was right in front of him. Despite the chipping, green paint and flimsy, plastic windows, the house was in good condition. Flowerbeds lined the walk up to the porch and underneath the windows. He could see a child's worn down bike along with left-out toys littering the well-kept lawn. Had it been on the right side of town, he would have gladly believed what he was about to do was wrong. If he threw the brick, would it land in a child's bed, scaring them to death? How was this the change he and his friends wanted? How did this accomplish anything?

He shook his head and dropped the brick, sprinting through side streets full of broken down houses and shattered glass. Vaguely, he wondered if people _actually_ lived there. It was the most dangerous and broken-down part of Cirby and he knew Main Street was close, with flashing neon restaurant and bar signs, and the occasional car zooming by. He felt safe enough then from his own friends _and_ the Negros to slow down as he crossed the bridge over the river to the "white" side of town. He knew if The Captain found out he had deserted them, the gang would banish him from the group. Just as well, he didn't even have the courage to throw a brick into a plastic window already bound to break.

He shed his black leather jacket; The Captain had lent it to him just for this occasion, so he would fit in, but now, it made him feel like a criminal. The humid heat did little to cool down Wan's burning body, diffusing into his damp, white t-shirt. He drew out a long breath and started to whistle. The walk back home was probably another half an hour away (the farther you were from the river, the richer you were). As the small, town homes grew to mansions, he stopped and took a breather. The East Side mansions were the elite of the white, and stood on the highest hills, as if looking down on all who were below them in status, class and color. Wan looked down once more over Cirby and imagined the cries of pain and fear blowing over from the West Side. He could do nothing about it. Smog covered the worst area of the town, like a terrible, dirty storm brewed over it.

Wan sighed and continued on, stopping only in front of a rather deserted street, where a lone, white house stood on the highest hill in East Side's elite. There were four, huge columns and above that, a balcony. Trimmed, dark hedges grew underneath the large windows. Most of the lights were out, except for the front hall. He hesitated and then walked in, hoping not to disturb anyone sleeping.

Nevertheless, his hopes were dashed when the oldest Shoe Brother, Mike, stepped in front of him, followed by his almost identical little brothers, Matt and Mitch. They all were round-faced, could give a mean pouty lip when they wanted something, and were all obese. Wan believed it was from the never-ending fountain of food that flowed into their guts. Mike was older and bigger than Wan, who was somewhat scrawny and scruffy-looking. He was even smaller in weight than Matt, two years younger than him. Somehow though, they could all out-run and pummel him to the ground for doing the slightest misdeed.

"What were you doing out so late, Wan?" Mike inquired.

"Yeah what _were_ you doing?" Matt irritatingly copied.

"It's none of your business," Wan found it easier to avoid a beating if he didn't make eye contact; he would be accused of being disrespectful.

"Then is it your business to come through the front door? No servants are allowed to come through that way. You know that."

"I'm sorry," Wan mumbled, trying to look as broken in front of them, "I guess I was so tired I forgot about it."

"Next time, don't stay out so late," Mitch retorted.

"It won't happen again."

"Good," the Shoe Brothers said simultaneously. It made Wan want to laugh, but he withheld it, wanting to hear their whispered conversation as he left.

"He is lucky he has a place to stay, otherwise, he would be on the West Side right now," of the brothers muttered. Wan grimaced. Some people were born with wealth and power, while Wan didn't even know his parents' names. He _was_ quite lucky he wasn't part of the poor white families who lived on the West Side. They were despised perhaps even _more_ than Negros. It always helped him though, to think of a saying he had read in a book somewhere, "Wealth may be hereditary, but brains are not." Wan couldn't imagine anyone more daft than the Shoe Brothers.

The Shoe family came from a long line of plantation owners back before the Civil War. They loved to hang portraits of their ancestors who fought for the Confederates, but Wan didn't see why. Their family had lost with the Confederacy, but maybe it was a matter of loyalty to their ancestors' beliefs that the Negros should be treated like animals. Wan stopped and gazed at one of the pictures; a dark-haired man with a large mustache and clear blue eyes that penetrated him to the soul. Hadn't _he_ just participated in a terrorist act against the Negros? Who was he to judge when he was _just_ as bad?

He broke away from that gaze and half-ran to the servants hall. It was more frequently used when there were huge parties hosted in the Shoe mansion. Ever since Mrs. Shoe died in child birth to Mitch, Mr. Shoe reluctantly held parties once in a blue moon. Otherwise, he kept Wan, Jay and old Howe. Jay was a few years younger than Wan and was an orphan just like him. Howe had white hair against wrinkled mulatto skin. After the second world war, he had never recovered mentally and for some act of bravery, saving Mr. Shoe's life, they kept him on as a servant.

When he walked to their shared bedroom, Jay sat up, rubbing his eyes. Howie mumbled in his sleep, tossing and turning like he always did each night. "Where were you, Wan?"

"The West Side with 'The Captain'." Howe bolted up out of bed once Wan said 'West Side.'

"Don't go over there Wan! They'll mug you, beat you,_ kill_ you even," he exclaimed, biting his fingernails and tugging on his wispy hair.

"As if I don't get beaten and cheated on the East Side," Wan muttered and sat down on his cot. "Things are changing, and we need to be a part of it."

"Still, it's dangerous over there. You shouldn't go again," Jay chastised.

"When I was in the war, them negros would beat me for being mixed. They are merciless," he crowed. Wan sighed in pity. Howie didn't belong anywhere, it seemed.

"I can handle myself, and I don't think I'll go with them again. So let me sleep." He brushed them off. Jay looked over at Howe and shrugged. They all lay down on their creaky cots and drifted off. All Wan could think of before he let sleep take him was the leering face of Mike Shoe. There _had_ to be a way to stand up to them.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, a shout-out to my reviewer, EternalDaylightingRanger,! Thanks for your feedback, but all those other people who read it, it would be great just to hear that you liked it! The next chapter won't be updated next week, as I will be on vacation that whole week. I'll try to get the next one updated the week after that, but yeah...it might be awhile, especially with school coming up. So, review, follow, and favorite! No doubt, I will do the same for you!**

When the Railroad was built on the west side of Cirby River in the 1890s, all the prospectors flocked and built homes there, thriving. Eventually, their homes started to get old and once the new Railroad was built on the other side, the rich moved to follow the business. None were African American. The West Side houses were left to the poor, already used by other families for decades. And if any Negro aspired to buy a home on the East Side, his offer was shot down and sold to another, preferably one with _lighter_ skin. Conveniently, the river made it easier for segregation in school districts. The boundary line _was_ the river, so the East Side Schools were well funded, and that was the exact opposite of the West. It did not break any laws of course; anyone could attend the East Side schools, with qualified teachers and new, well-kept buildings... as long as they lived on the East Side. And so, each community went on, segregated in schools, business and success.

Luckily, Wan went to neither set of schools. Mr. Shoe had pulled him out of East Side High School after he turned 16. He claimed that he was needed at the house more than advancing his education. Jay was enrolled in the Junior High but no doubt would be pulled out at the same age and in the same manner. It initially made Wan furious, but then Howe had told him he had never been to school and had no idea how to read or write. It furthered Wan's resentment of the Shoe family. Howe had and always would, live under the shadow of the Shoe Mansion.

Conveniently, the Shoe Brothers were still made to go to school, and for a while, Wan was happy to see the lack of his bullies, but he soon saw that it was the matter of competition with Mr. Shoe's sons. He could not let Wan graduate with better grades than Mike Shoe, so he was not allowed to graduate at all. He knew this was the end of hope for a better life when he became an adult. He would have no promise, no security that he would ever find an adequate job.

That day, a Saturday, Mr. Shoe was out around noon with his sons, running a series of errands. Howie had accidentally fallen asleep at the table in the servant's hall, so Wan let him be. He and Jay were the only ones awake in the big house.

"Wan," Jay said, "I was thinking. You said last night that things were changing, and that we should be a part of it."

"I did," Wan smiled. Jay was so innocent, even if he had spent most of his childhood without a roof over his head.

"What do you mean?"

"People are starting to talk. Not much here, but in the northern states. Those who are like us need to take charge of our lives and go somewhere better, bigger. _We_ need to take the control from the rich."

"How do we do that?" Jay's shaggy brown hair hung in his eyes. Wan hesitated, maybe there was a better way. They could act purposefully, less rashly. Wan glanced around the room and spotted Jay's satchel, stuffed with papers and books and pencils. Those would all be useless in a few years. He _had_ to take Jay away from that future.

"Follow me, I have an idea."

* * *

They crept through the empty, unused corridors to the third floor where Mr. Shoe 's study was located. His heart stammered nervously as he unlocked the door with the housekeeper's key that he had stolen from Howie a few days before. Of course, the old man hadn't noticed yet. Every sound in the house seemed to come alive as he struggled with the rusted metal. A creak to the left and another from within made him tremble. He really shouldn't have been doing this, but when the lock clicked and the door swung open, he stepped through.

"What are we doing here?" Jay whispered, somewhat confused.

"Taking the control from the richest man in town, Mr. Shoe." Jay hesitated before following.

Mr. Shoe's study was old-fashioned; it had very dark, polished wood everywhere: the bookshelves, the immaculate desk, the lining on the windows and the trimming. The parallel walls lined from floor to ceiling were filled with books. Perpendicular to those walls were huge windows, bringing brilliant, blinding light. It made his underground work seem less illegal than if it had been night. The ornate desk stood in the center of the room, in front of the wall of windows. He tiptoed to it, but the carpeted floors had already muffled his footsteps. Jay was less quiet about it. He seemed to stomp everywhere he went.

Glancing around the room, his paranoia getting to him, he vaguely smelled smoke and saw the ash pan somewhat smoldering from a previous cigar of Mr. Shoe's. The drawer with the wallet in it was the bottom left. Of course, it was locked, but Wan was prepared; he pulled out a metal knife from his threadbare jacket and forced it into the crack. He pulled back on the hilt, and the drawer flung open and fell on the floor. He swore at the loud noise, feeling as if his heart was beating its way up his throat. Jay whimpered and then gasped, realizing what Wan was doing now.

The wallet _was_ there, stuffed with dozens of hundred dollar bills. He smirked; Mr. Shoe had at least that much money on his person at all times. He had so much money, he didn't know what to do with it! But Wan knew he could do something useful with that money. He and Jay would be able to continue their educations and go to college. He took about 8 or 9 of the bills before putting it back in the drawer, which was unfortunately broken. He stood, ten times richer than before.

"Wait," Jay said abruptly, almost too loud for his liking. "Wan, is this really the right way to go about things?"

"Jay, Mr. Shoe treats us like the people on the other side of the river. You won't be able to finish school. If we leave, we could avoid that! Think about it. A way to get out of this hole!"

"I-I...I don't kn-nnnow," Jay stammered, shifting his feet.

"I'm going, with or without you," Wan stated, his heart bursting. Jay had grown on him, and they were brothers now. It would be a shame to leave him behind. Perhaps...when he made it in the world, he could come back and take Jay with him, to his _own_ mansion, and Howe could come too.

He was shocked at Jay's answer,"Fine, Wan, but after this, we are honest. No more stealing. And someday we come back for Howie."

"Agreed," Wan beamed and nodded down the hallway, a silent gesture.

They didn't worry about being quiet anymore. When Howie was out, he was _out_, and he was the only one they had to worry about in the house. Instead of going out through the servants door, Wan purposefully led Jay through the front door, the one Mike had rebuked him last night for having the gall to walk through. Wan smiled, knowing that he would never have to see those halls again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A shoutout to my reviewers theEternalDaylightingRanger and LifeIndeed! This chapter took awhile to write and get into because I was basically gone for two weeks and had school start this week! At the moment, I am trying to build up Wan's world before he meets Raava, who I am SO excited to write about! This chapter is sort of a filler, and yes, I'm not sorry about the cliff-hanger! Wan is about to go through some crap in the next chapter, and I hope you can tell who I have converted some characters into! (though the annoying clerk is an OC. I thought it would be humorous to put her there.) Please REVIEW! Or favorite and follow. It is VITAL for me to get feedback!  
**

"I can't believe you just did that!" Jay exclaimed as they battled the sun's rays through the unsheltered streets. They had passed through the elite, country roads holding all the mansions and big houses. Now, they could hear children screaming playfully and laughing as they enjoyed their day off of school in their yards. A couple of boys Jay's age tossed a baseball around in beaten-up-mitts, and young women walking on the sidewalks in knee-length striped, floral, plaid, or polka-dot dresses that blushed at catching his or another male's eye. Wan resolved to keep his eyes glued to the ground.

He decided to stay silent. Misery, he determined, was what he felt at the moment. Misery in this horrid weather, misery in his worry and paranoia, misery in his _guilt. _

"Where are we going?" Jay eventually asked as they neared downtown.

"The police station."

"_What? _I would think that we would want to be as far away from the law as possible!"

"You won't be going inside, Jay. And don't worry. I have a plan."

"I don't know about this, Wan. Just because you have a plan, doesn't mean it is a good one." Wan laughed and trudged ahead.

"My last one worked out pretty well." Jay didn't say anything in response, but only hurried to catch up to his side. Whether he liked it or not, Jay was stuck to Wan now-they couldn't abandon each other.

Wan's heart rate sped up as he neared the courthouse, almost apprehending that they were already on his trail. It seemed like everyone was staring at him accusatory. His palms were sweating, and he didn't know if it was because of the extremely hot weather, or because he was being eaten alive, from the inside-out.

"Sit here," he ordered. Jay sat down on a shaded park bench outside the building while Wan entered the slightly cooler interior. There were loud, rickety fans in every window, causing the people in the room to almost have to shout to be heard. A few people sat on chairs, waiting for something, but there was a desk with another line of half a dozen people behind a small old woman shouting at the worker. It could have been because she was angry, or because of the fans, Wan could not tell, for he could not even hear them amidst their raised voices. He decided to go to the back of the line of uncomfortable citizens waiting for their turn. Finally, after nearly half an hour of standing and gaining a headache from the snappy remarks of the clerk, who Wan could tell, was instigating the harsh tones the closer he got to the front. The whole time, he nearly flinched when a policeman passed by him, smiled or talked to the clerk for a moment. It took all his courage to stay in his spot and incline his head in greeting. Now it was his turn.

She had large, black browline glasses, making her seem even more strict. She appeared to scowl the moment he stepped forward, making him narrow his eyes. "Yes?" she sighed, and clicked her pen on the desk impatiently.

"I would like to see the sheriff-it's an emergency, Miss."

"It's Ma'am to _you._"

Wan ground his teeth, "_Ma'am_. I _need _to talk to the sheriff, right away."

"Why do you need to talk to the sheriff?"

"It's my business and his, not your own."

"What?" she screeched. "The fans are to loud."

He repeated, even though she had a smirk on her face, shouting. "It's not your business, Ma'am!"

"It is if you want see him." Wan nearly stomped his foot with frustration, but knew it would be childish, and instead, forced a smile.

"Could you just send him a note that a boy named Wan needs to speak with him about his offer?" The woman rolled her eyes and waved him to a chair like the other ten people in the chairs, most likely waiting for appointments, or maybe for the irritating clerk to send the sheriff a note. He watched her every move and noticed no notes had been sent away. He glanced out the window at the bench Jay had originally been sitting on, and couldn't see him. He panicked and stood, peering through the windows for a sight of his friend. He almost bolted, but then, he assumed, that woman behind the desk would cause some type trouble for him if he left the building. Something stirred near a tree and he flinched, and was finally relieved to see Jay sitting up from a catnap. Jay stood up, rubbing his eyes and watched the building, a worried expression planted on his face. Wan felt bad for leaving him outside and alone for so long. It was all that woman's fault that they were behind schedule. Mr. Shoe would most likely be home with his sons, and they would be wondering where he and Jay had run off to. It was only a matter of time before they discovered the missing bills and come after him.

He stalked up to the desk again after the continuous line had withered to pauses in between the next person with a question.

"May I see the sheriff now? I've been waiting for nearly an hour for this."

"Oh, I _forgot,"_ she sneered. "I'll just call him. He is in his office right now." Wan felt like hurting this woman. It would have taken her so little time for her to help him, but no, it was her life's mission it seemed, to make the life of anyone who walked through the front door more complicated and tiresome. She picked up the corded beige phone and spun the dials, it seemed, extra slow.

"Hello, sir. there is young man named Don here to see you."

"My name is_ Wan_!" he exploded. She raised her eyebrows at him and fixed the mistake. She pursed her lips as she listened and said goodbye. "He will see you now, Don. Do you know where the offi-"

"Yes, I do," he strode past her, wanting to get away before his temper got away with him.

"You're welcome," she drawled at him, turning his face bright red. He shut the door and followed a hallway with green and brown tiles, dim lighting casting dusty shadows along the walls. He knocked on the first door after he had gone up a flight of stairs and turned onto the right hallway. The slow, rumbling voice of the sheriff beckoned him in.

"Wan. How good to see you." Sheriff Leo Carolina sat behind his desk, lazily writing something on paper in front of him.

"You too Mr. Carolina. I have come because I feel I can accept your offer, now." Mr. Carolina leaned forward, a frown on his face.

"And what about Mr. Shoe...?"

"I have cut ties with him, sir."

"And the boy?

"Jay is coming with me. He's agreed to leaving."

"I am surprised you come at this time Wan," Leo tapped his fingers together.

"I am surprised you doubt my decision! I have contemplated it for more than a year, and now, I am ready."

The man cleared his scratchy throat. "I don't doubt you, Wan. I just hope you aren't leaving brashly. You know I will miss you."

Wan laughed bitterly, "If you were going to miss me, you should have set me up in a better place growing up. My life would have been useless if you hadn't offered this option." Mr. Carolina blew out through his nose, his croaking voice betraying him. For most of Wan's life, the man, although he had been kind and asked after him throughout the years, never helped lift a burden off his young shoulders. Instead Leo had turned an oblivious and ignorant eye to the things happening to the orphan, to the neighborhood, to the whole _town_.

"But I am, and you have come to me for help, because I can _still_ give it. Do you need money?"

Wan felt his heart stumble in shock and grinned, "Yeah, I sort of do. And a lot more than you originally said, because Jay _is_ coming with me."

"Of course," Leo yawned, and pulled out his wallet, revealing the most beautiful green thing in the universe: cash, and lots of it. They agreed on a fair amount that doubled his worth. His spirits were high, thinking about the hundred dollar bills in his pocket, and he was about to stand when the phone rang.

"Hold on a sec." Leo picked up the phone and said, "Sheriff Carolina speaking." A pause. "What?" His eyes were wide and astounded as he looked at the desk, and then up at Wan. The boy tensed at seeing that betrayed, _disappointed_ expression. The call was about him, he knew it like it was written out in front of him. And the Sheriff _knew_.

It was time to flee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thanks to my reviewers and people who favorite/follow! I know this ship isn't all that popular, but I love it Soososososo much! If you have any questions, be sure to ask! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a long time! I had a book review due so I was typing a paper for nine hours during my weekend, instead of writing fanfic. I have been neglecting my duties as a fanfic author, so be free to slap my face, if you want to (mentally and through cyberspace of course). And I am not alone in freaking out about next season coming out in a month! I am freaking out and SO excited at the same time!  
**

Wan never thought he could have run faster in his life; his traction-less shoes made him slip and slide around the corners, and he was suddenly glad that Mr. Carolina was as slow as a turtle, even if he was powerful. It was the telephone he worried about...He slowed as he approached the doors, they would know _then_ that he was trouble, _if_ they didn't know already. He sucked in his breath and pushed open his doors, striding toward freedom outside, acting completely normal, when the clerk picked up a ringing telephone. Wan bolted out just in time for the clerk to shout to the policemen in the fan-filled room.

He sprinted to Jay patiently waiting. His friend gave him a reproachable look at his present state and at the sight of a couple of officers running after them. "What did you-"

"Come on!" Wan pulled on his arm roughly, dragging him through the grass. He knew now, that they wouldn't get away. Jay was hindering their progress.

"Go back, like this never happened, Jay. I was going to leave either way." Jay's eyebrows raised worriedly until Wan shoved him. "GO! Don't you want to keep your job, a roof over your head? You hear me? Go back, you didn't do anything!" Jay shook his head, his eyes unmistakably shining before running and disappearing

"Stop!" Wan heard a man shout and the click of a gun. He smirked and turned around, putting his hands up to his head.

* * *

Wan's head was down, his unkempt hair hanging in his face as he bent forward, elbows on his knees. Mr. Shoe and Leo were discussing his situation, asking him if he was involved with an accomplice. To hear Shoe's voice again made him want to puke, especially, since he kept offering that Wan just come back to the house and all would be forgotten. It seemed Leo Carolina would give in to it as well, but Wan knew the real cause. Shoe and his sons would make his life a living hell if he went back.

"If he needs community service, we'll be able to help," Mr. Shoe suggested. Wan groaned inwardly, praying that it wouldn't be the case.

"He might be going in for a more serious crime, he _did_ steal from you." Wan glanced at the stack of bills they had emptied out of his pockets after searching him for a weapon. Seeing their reactions-Leo, of betrayal, and Shoe, with triumph, made him realize that revenge only hurt the one enacting it. He blocked out the sound of their discussions, knowing that they would never listen to the suggestions of the thief, especially when the victim was the richest man in town.

Sometime later, Wan didn't even know how fast time had passed, Leo turned, "Well?" They both stared at him, expecting him to speak.

"What?"

"See, he is too stupid to be granted that college scholarship! Why didn't you consult me about it when you offered it to him?"

"I..I-I" Leo stumbled and wiped his glistening brow. "I figured Wan would tell you...I thought he already had-"

"You idiot! If I didn't know better, I would have-" _You would have taken it away,_ Wan thought. Mr. Shoe stopped just in time to control his temper, before sighing and shaking his head. "let's just say...there would be consequences." Wan recognized the look Mr. Shoe gave Mr. Carolina. For Wan, it confirmed a sound punishment, physically or emotionally, in the nearby future.

"So what are we going to do with the boy?" Leo asked. "I'm sorry, but it would be unwise to pardon him from this." Mr. Shoe sighed loudly in response.

"If he doesn't come back, I don't want him anywhere near me, whatsoever. I don't want to see his face, and I don't want him to get that scholarship." Wan's eyes squeezed shut in mental pain. There was no where to go if he didn't get that scholarship, he couldn't escape that town. _That's what you get, stupid. You don't go on heists and expect to get awarded if you get caught! _He mentally kicked himself for his actions that day.

"Alright, Mr. Shoe. I'll make sure Wan has a job somewhere-"

"I'm pretty sure there are some open jobs just waiting for him on the _West_ Side," Shoe commented, and Wan finally understood. His boss would either break him if he went back to live at the Mansion, or he would banish him to the other side of the river for life there to humiliate him. Either way, the slimy rich man won.

Unless Wan didn't let it happen. He could finish high school, perhaps and find somewhere cheap to live. It wasn't like he hadn't gone without food before. He could deal with hunger.

"We'll see," Leo forced a smile, his deep voice somehow cracking.

"Well," Mr. Shoe grabbed the stolen money off of the desk and his suitcase on the floor next to him. "I thank you for catching the thief," Shoe glanced at Wan pointedly. "and I must leave to attend to my work. Have a good day, Sheriff." He gave Wan a smirk at turning to the door, one that Leo could not see. He decided to scowl back at him. "It is a pity we have to part this way, Wan. You were _so_ promising." Wan just laughed bitterly and shook his head.

"Goodbye, Mr. Shoe." The air seemed incredibly lighter when he left and both remaining males sighed involuntarily. There was still tension though, Wan had to admit. He had let Leo down, had lied and taken advantage of him, and he wondered how the older man would respond now that they were alone for the first time. He was only regretful about stealing the money from his boss because he got caught. He had almost exploited this kind, old, ignorant man just because he could, and that was what he was more guilty about.

Finally, after along silence, Mr. Carolina sighed as he sat down and reprimanded, "You're getting off lucky, Wan. You didn't need all that money you were requiring of me. I don't even know if an education is what you really want anymore, or ever did want."

"It is, Leo! I did it to get away from Mr. Shoe, that's all," Wan hung his head, ashamed, and pathetically added, "I'm sorry I broke the law, and lied to you."

"From now on, _boy_, you will call me Mr. Carolina. We have no ties anymore. If you come around here. If I see you on the streets anywhere on the East Side, I _will_ arrest you." The words came slowly and deep, but Wan's world seemed to be falling fast. The coldness in the Mr. Carolina's voice was piercing his conscience, and he wanted to run off and hide into the crumbling west side of the city, to escape from the consequences.

"I understand," Wan's voice shook with emotion as he pleaded, "I will follow the rules, but can you _please_ give me the amount of that scholarship? I have nothing. I've spent it all on Howie and Jay."

The sheriff's face softened and peered at him for a moment or two. "I will give you 500, Wan. For our history. But I can't rat you out if you get in trouble on the other side. I've pulled too many strings this time. I _could_ be sending you to a juvenile prison."

"Thank you sir," Wan cried. Unchecked, he stood abruptly and shook Leo's hand graciously, even though he was being ripped from safe shelter and people he had grown close to.

* * *

It was a long walk, Wan discovered, and he felt everyone was staring at him as he shuffled down the last hill of East Colby. He strode across the bridge quickly, remembering the night just a few days ago when he had accompanied the gang leader, who everyone called "The Captain" in code. _Ironic_, he laughed at himself. Now, he was living here, never allowed to cross the bridge again, and in some ways, he was fine with that.

Change was coming.


	5. Chapter 5

**Due to a new rule in my home, I cannot go on the computer on weekdays, so I've worked on this all week! This is finally getting Wan to the "Spirit Wilds" and due to me not wanting to rush any type of character development or the story in of itself, he won't be meeting Raava for quite a long time. If you like the story, how about you review? It sort of makes sense, since you've made yourself read it this far? I would do the same for you, so it would be great to stimulate me to write. The absence of reviews sort of sucked last chapter-I'm absolutely sure you guys can do better than that. Anyways, enjoy, and REVIEW!**

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It was musty and hot, darkness closing in on all sides. Light had slowly faded from the day ultimately, shadows even nonexistent in the dusty one-roomed house. The room was empty but for a crooked, chipped wooden table and wrinkly, moth-eaten blankets laid out on the floor, intended for someone who never came back. In a corner devoid of any moonlight coming in from the broken windows and ajar door, a boy sat, his uneven hair losing its ability to stay straight and out of his face after an unavoidable inability to bathe for the past week.

He jumped at every creak or movement within or around the house. Sometimes, he heard voices from outside, and squeaks as the door was occasionally pushed open, by the wind or the intruders, it still gave him the same frightened reaction. Soon though, after his stillness and silence, they left with quiet murmurs drifting on the air.

Wan usually prided himself on his bravery; he had even walked into a jazzy restaurant with confidence, only to see he was the only white person there. The customers all watched him sternly; silent glares emanating, "You don't belong here." He knew it was true as he walked out, and the bustling energy of the building returned. It didn't wax on his courage all the way, until he entered an apartment building. It was the first step in becoming rooted in the West Side.

He was awkwardly directed to the landlord, a large man with military souvenirs bedecking the walls and desks. One he noticed, was the Silver Star Medal, hanging from his chest.

"Sir, I am Wan."

The man was stiff, "Wan. You need an apartment?"

"Yes," he had responded. "I just got here today."

"Wan, eh?" His black eyebrows creased, knowing absolutely no one would ever move to the West Side without being ignorant. "You from around here?"

"No," he smiled, "saw some cheap living on this side of town."

The dark man looked down at him skeptically, "How old are you, Wan? To rent an apartment here, you have to be eighteen or older."

"Does it really matter?" Wan pulled out his wad of cash out of his pocket, staring hard at the older man.

"Do mean to bribe me?"He exclaimed. Wan stepped back, ashamedly silent. "I would be breaking the law, boy. Now, where are your parents?"

Wan flinched and threw back, "You don't want to let me live here because you are bitter, aren't you?" The landlord would have helped any that were his "kind."

"Get out," the big man had grit his teeth. Wan turned slowly and stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"You're the type of person who enforces segregation, and I-"

"OUT!" He pointed at the door this time, taking an advancing step in intimidation. Wan hung his head in disappointment and walked with humiliation out of the housing compartments, catching snippets of the onlookers' comments about, "not belonging," and "questionable motives." He ran down numerous streets, knowing that running from trouble was a talent he excelled at. Daylight was starting to fade, as the sunlight cast a golden glow on a broken down, abandoned park.

Wan sat on a rusty, creaky swing to catch his breath and rest his tired legs. He had closed his eyes and sighed-it didn't look like his first day on the West Side was going too well. A block or two away, he knew, were a bunch of small wooden homes, paint had long chipped away by weather. Graffiti decorated both the exterior and interior walls now. That was the biggest sign of abandonment, and maybe, he had thought, maybe-

"Excuse me?" He felt a cold hand nudge his arm, making his eyes fly open in surprise. In front of him, was a three foot tall little negro girl. She wore a faded pink dress, which had a few patches on the elbow and knee areas. He somehow, hadn't heard her approach. "Excuse me, sir, but this is the negro park. The white one is over yonder." She pointed east, and Wan realized that there was even segregation within the segregated.

"I'm sorry," He stood, and gestured to the little girl, "Didn't realize I don't belong here."

"Nope," she agreed, shaking her head as she struggled to hop onto the seat of the swing. He trudged across the crumbling black-top; not even a seven-year old girl cared enough about compassion.

He had decided, with broken spirits, to resort to the graffiti houses. Without the signs, pictures, and words, the houses sort of reminded him of cabins, and he wondered really how old they were. He hadn't stepped out of the house he'd chosen unless he absolutely had to. Fear had come with the night, wondering how dark people bitter with revenge could be if they found a helpless, unwanted white kid. So, Wan hid out in a smelly little house that became unbearably hot during the day, but quite cool and relaxing in the night. All the time in seclusion earned him a long time to think. He had underestimated the depth of the problems on the West Side, and he need to reevaluate his initial plan. For the moment, he had to find some type of housing, and after that, enroll in a school.

But how? Housing here was almost as bad as the East Side!

It had been seven days of quiet seclusion and scheming before he found himself leaving the house for more than food or water. He heard a cry across the street and then, low chuckles that caused him to stand wearily and follow their sounds of retreat. A young woman had collapsed on the ground, and Wan bent next to her.

"Are you alright?"

She hummed and flinched away from him.

"I'm going to get you inside here, Miss." He quickly guided her to the closest house possible and deposited her in the care of a kindly old couple before sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of the troublemakers. A huge suspicion of "The Captain's" work behind the event made him take shortcuts to try and confront them before their next move. He heard their laughter, their vandalism every so often, and his heart ached to sometimes hear a human cry. Turning a down a corner, he saw the burly "Captain" himself approach a faded blue Mini with some type of brick and began to crack the windshield with it. Wan could not help himself; he cried out, bringing the attention to himself. They waited as he ran up to them. He realized, with some shock, that they were wearing masks over their features.

"Captain, I can't let you do this." He firmly stood his ground without a weapon, while they had enough manpower to kill him. He wanted to bolt, but he knew the person who owned the car would want him to stay and stop such injustice.

"Lookee here!" The Captain leered, "It's little ol' Wan. Boys, do you remember what he did last time we saw him?" The gang leader walked not two inced away from his face and breathed, "He ran scared." Wan shut his eyes as Captain continued, "Wan is a coward just like the rest of the negros. I even hear he's living with them!" There was laughter, jeers, and catcalls directed toward him, but he did not waver. Nor did Wan flinch when the Captain raised his brick and made moves to slam it on his head. He stopped right next to his head when the supposed "coward" didn't flinch.

"Put the brick down and go home to your worthless lives," Wan stated. "There is a reason you have to terrorize innocent people; Your personal lives are a failure, and-" Wan could not continue, after the advances of the Captain. He surely thought his brains would be smashed by the brick when a savior, a silhouette of a large man who tackled the unaware, enraged Captain. The rest of the gang fled before Wan's eyes as their Captain was beaten by his own enemy, a Negro. It was even shocking to Wan when he saw who had saved him.

"You're the man from earlier!" he exclaimed.

"Aye-aye," he chuckled. "You seem to have a good heart Wan. My daughter is the girl you helped. I thank you. and apologize for my miscalculated prejudice."

"I am welcome to rent a room in your apartments, correct?"

"Aye-aye, Wan."


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Wan woke up from an ache in his head. He lay there trying to remmeber where he had taken rest when he recalled the night's events. After the confrontation with the gang, the "Aye-Aye" veteran led him to his office where he let Wan set up camp from the night.

"Wan!" the tenant exclaimed when Wan sat up. The boy jumped and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry,_ some_ of us have to work before ten in the morning.

"Is it really that late?" He must have unconsciously basked in the comfort of safety and the soft pillow his friend had given him almost too much.

"Aye-Aye, boy," he grinned. "Did you rest well?"

"Quite well thank you, sir. No one came in here other than you did they?"

"Oh," he grinned, "Not that many."

Wan decided to shake off the weird situation and stood. "Wan of the things, sir, that I-"

"The key is right here," he pointed to the edge of the desk while rifling through some messy papers, "to your apartment, No. 7. It has one large room with a shared bathroom. The walls are a bit thin and don't really block out any sound, and there is a sparse amount of furniture, but it is clean."

"That's more than I could have asked for, but I need to enroll in a high school."

"So you _are_ under-aged!"

"Too late now!" Wan laughed as he grabbed the key and sprinted down the hallway.

"I just need your signature for the papers, Wan. I'll bring them up to you later," he called after him.

"Great, thanks, Aye-Aye." Wan didn't know why he had called the man, "Aye-Aye" but it was fitting. He was actually surprised that he didn't know his patron's name yet, but this nickname, it somehow stuck.

Apartment No. 7 was on the second floor, along with five other apartments. As he unlocked the door, the neighboring apartment opened and he looked down to greet two little children.

There was a toddler girl sucking on her thumb and in front of her, her older brother, perhaps a year or two older than her. They both had curly black hair with flour thrown on their clothes. He smiled and knelt in front of them. "Hello, kids. I'm Wan."

"You're our new neighbor?" the boy asked. "Do you need any help?"

"No," he laughed, "I don't really have anything to move into here yet."

"Oh," he nodded and slapped his sister's hand away from her mouth. She immediately stuck her other fist in.

"I'm Glen, and she is my sister Lynn. She's a baby." The little girl hid behind her brother immediately.

"It's nice to meet you Glen. I might see you later."

"Bye, Mr. Wan."

He couldn't help keep the smile on his face as he entered his apartment and shut the door. A few moments later he heard a soft female voice. "Glen, Lynn what are you doing out here?"

"We were talking to Mr. Wan!"

"Who is Mr. Wan?"

"Our neighbor! He just moved in!"

"I didn't know that we got a new neighbor. Are you sure-"

"Positive, Momma, he's white."

"Oh," he heard her voice change. "Well, it's time to go back inside. The cookies might be ready."

He heard Lynn squeal in delight as Glen asked, "Could we take one to Mr. Wan, Momma? He has no food and no stuff."

"Well, I don't think that's such a great idea, Glen. He might not want us to bother him. He might be tired." By then, he heard a door close and their voices became more muffled.

Wan wanted to punch something frustration. The madness of pride! It seemed like people on the West side _wanted_ to be segregated! He didn't understand anything anymore. Since living here for a few weeks, he had been opened to an insight on how things really worked, but he couldn't understand _why_ they had to work that way. Couldn't people just work together? It was the only way to keep peace, and yet, it seemed like no one wanted it on either side.

Looking at the room, his new home, he was reminded of Jay and Howie, and he wished he had been able to bring them with him. The room smelled of faded cigarette smoke, and broken beer bottles littered the floor where someone had thrown them against the wall. He dared not touch the bed, he decided he would have to wash the sheets to protect from lice or any other happenings that occurred on that mattress. The couch was a dull checkered red and orange and sagged without him even sitting on it.

He was surprised by Aye-Aye's version of "clean" but he knew there was no way he should or could complain. He could make it a home.

Sighing, he stripped the sheets off of the bed and took off his smelly shirt and added it to the pile. It was terribly muggy outside, so he was fine with just wearing a sleeveless undershirt. had nothing to carry it in so he bunched the fabric into a ball and stepped outside, locking the door behind him. He walked down the hallway and descended the stairs to the first floor, eying his feet so he would miss a step and stumble. Instead, as he turned, he ran right into someone.

"Ooof!" a young woman in a plain blue dress stumbled back as they both dropped their laundry at the collision.

"I'm so sorry." Wan helped her pick up her nice-smelling, clean laundry and put it in her basket.

"It's my fault..." she looked at him for the first time and stumbled over her words. "yeah. I'm...it's just, I'm just...I'm clumsy."

Wan grinned, "Well, I'm glad I haven't offended you."

"You won't be angry if I asked who you were? I haven't seen you around before."

"I just moved in today. I'm not from around here."

"Your name is...? Her brown eyes eyed him up and down, causing him to blush.

"Wan. Just Wan."

"I'm Cindy." She huffed as she situated the heavy basket on her other hip. "I live in No. 14 on the third floor."

"I'm on the second floor. No. 7. I'll...ugh...see you around."

"Goodbye," she replied and started to walk away. He watched her go and she turned her head, smiling at him with surprisingly white teeth before disappearing around the corner. Wan shook his head with a smile before continuing on to the laundromat.


End file.
